Before I was shot, I always thought that I was more half-there than all-there â€“ I always suspected that I was watching TV instead of living life. Right when I was being shot and ever since, I knew that I was watching television.
If I had an old typewriter, I would use it. I would walk into The Beat, lugging it with me. I would plunk it down, blow the dust off the cover, and whisk it off with a grand flourish, possibly getting a brief nod of acknowlegement from a watery-eyed octogenarian as he glanced up from his iPhone.
Then I would sit down and write, oblivious to the gawking stares of the DTP tech wizards. Eventually, people would grow accustomed to the irregular ding of the carriage and the litany of swearing induced by my typos. I would line up eleven bottles of wite-out and round it out with a fifth of Jack Daniels, an even dozen. Whatever the wite-out couldn’t fix, the Jack would. I would be a rockstar.
Alas, I am confined to my laptop as I sip lukewarm tea at a 24 hour Starbucks, trapped upon a media platform that sucks out my gusto and transforms it into code. Incantations and spells swirl in my head as I muster the materialization of a sledgehammer. Instead, the ghost of Valerie Solanas, the feminist writer best known for shooting Andy Warhol, sits herself down across from me. As she chain-smokes, we commiserate about the state of things. She suggests that writing will soon become just a series of electronic impulses, for the purpose of filling up white space.
Why read when you can scroll? Why do anything? Life is boring. Instead, all things should be engaged through a device. There are less cockroaches that way. And on and on goes our diatribe.
Then I get an uncontrollable urge to check my Twitter.
Valerie vaporizes, and I feel cleansed. My demons and self-doubt exorcised, I plunge myself back into the world of limitless possibilities that lies on the other side of the screen. But before I get back to my writing, I make a quick Â purchase off of eBay. A vintage Remington typewriter.
I will type by the light of the moon, and I hope you will too.
Yours all the way there and back again,
– Catherine Treu
From the September Issue of Fashion Feed LV Magazine
Clothing provided by Unhinged
Kimono by Green Tease
Model: Alias Ventress
Photographer: Charle Henry, The Progeny Photo
Backdrop Art: Rachel Hun
Creative/Styling: Catherine Treu
Makeup/Hair: Chris Virzi